


The Good, the Bad, and the Dirty

by off_in_lalaland



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Drabble, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7020970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/off_in_lalaland/pseuds/off_in_lalaland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Bunny drabbles, because who doesn't need more of Butters and Kenny in their life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If it Means a Lot to You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys :) So this is my first fic for the South Park fandom, which has a merciless grip on me right now. Bunny is definitely one of my top otp's, and my feels really needed an outlet. This may be the start of a series of drabbles, or it may not. Depends on my ability to find some connections between this and my other works in progress for these cuties.

Butters stared at him for a while before looking at his feet covered in Kenny’s socks, his eyebrows pulled together.  
“I-I think I’m just gonna go on over to bed, Kenny,” he says, still not looking at Kenny. 

“Come on, Butters don’t be mad,” Kenny says in an attempt to smooth things over. It’ll be a hell of an awkward night if Butters is mad at him.

“Well I am mad at ya, ain’t I?” Butters raises his voice, eyes flashing as he looks back at Kenny.

“Butters, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it’d mean so much to you,” Kenny insists, leaning forward in the ratty armchair. Butters still has that stubborn look on his face as he turns and starts heading out of the room.  
“Leopold,” Kenny says louder to get his attention. It works, and Butters spins around to look at him, eyes a little wider in surprise and his cheeks pink at hearing his given name. “C’mere. Please? I can’t go to bed with you mad at me,” Kenny pleads softly. Butters stands there toeing the threadbare carpet in the middle of Kenny’s living room, wearing only his big, light blue sweater that completely covers his hands, and happens to give an excellent view of his collarbones. If that isn’t enough, the sweater comes to a stop just below his ass, showing off his thin white legs that, just because they’re Butters’ legs, Kenny knows would feel amazing wrapped around his waist. He has a really difficult time trying not to notice how attractive one of his best friends is, knowing that he'd probably fuck up their whole relationship if he can't keep his shit together.

Kenny wasn’t sure what he expected Butters to do when he said ‘come here,’ but it sure as fuck wasn’t Butters climbing into his lap. He supposes he should have expected it, given what a hugger the kid is, but it catches him completely off guard when Butters sits on his thigh, legs curling against his chest as he leans into him. Kenny misses a beat before wrapping his long arms around him, holding Butters close. Butters rests his head in the hollow of Kenny’s shoulder and just sighs.

“I’m sorry Butters. I didn’t think anybody really cared about my birthday,” Kenny says quietly.

“Well I do, Kenny. An awful l-lot,” Butters answers, playing with a hole in the collar of Kenny’s shirt with one sweater-covered finger. How any grown teenage boy in South Park with a childhood like Butters’ can be so sweet, Kenny will never know. But here he is, wrapped in Kenny’s embrace. He’s not sure Butters should be here- knows he doesn’t want to ruin him. But he's not quite ready to let him go yet, so he squeezes him a little closer.


	2. Tongue Tied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see, my friends. I kind of lost motivation for writing South Park for a bit, but I'm trying like hell to get it back because I have so many works in progress for all the boys that I don't want to abandon. I've been working on this in particular for a while now and I'm not sure what else I can do to it, so here it is lol. There are hints of Butters being abused at home, but nothing explicit, so be warned.

He wants to melt into the wall - to exist in this moment within the curls of the paisley print wallpaper and just watch life happen around him without having to participate for a little while. He feels weird and light headed, but he supposes that’s what he gets for inhaling secondhand smoke and attempting to drown himself in wine coolers all night. Butters usually isn’t one for parties, especially the ones thrown by his classmates. He knows alcohol and drugs are normally involved now that they’re in high school, which is something he’s not very interested in. He also steers clear for fear of what his parents will do when they find out he was at a party, as much as he hates to admit it; he’d like to say that he’s grown out of being such a goody-two-shoes since elementary school, but he’d be telling one heck of a lie. He gets perfect grades, has perfect attendance, participates in as many extracurricular activities as he can, has an impressive resume, and to top it all off, is a virgin. How nice.

Lights and familiar faces swirl and swim through his hazy vision as he leans against the wall in Cartman’s basement, a half-empty bottle clutched tightly to his chest. He feels tingly and pleasantly warm as he watches the other people scattered around the room, all absorbed in their own little worlds. Stan and Kyle are sitting on the floor leaning against each other, their faces flushed and their hands grasping red solo cups, talking quietly and exchanging shy smiles. A few feet away, Tweek and Craig are sitting impossibly close on the couch together, Tweek hiding his face in Craig’s neck as Craig inhales from a lit joint. Butters’ eyes widen as Craig takes an abnormally long drag, holding it in and gently tugging Tweek’s face up to his, pressing his mouth to Tweek’s before exhaling. Tweek visibly relaxes into Craig’s mouth, slowly sliding his hands up into Craig’s hair under his hat. Butters feels his face heat up as he watches the exchange, unsure of what he just saw. It sure seemed passionate from the looks on their faces.

Butters has always loved them as a couple. They’ve been together since the fourth grade and will probably always be together - best friends turned boyfriends, as much as they don’t like to be called that. They can’t really deny the relationship title at this point. Butters’ eyes drift over to Kenny. He wants what Tweek and Craig have; he wants it really, really bad. Kenny currently has some girl pressed into a corner, whispering things into her ear that probably explain the blush on her face, his hands roaming over her backside. Butters sighs and peels himself off the wall, heading for the stairs.

He needs more alcohol.

 

***

 

The night wanes, and Butters is fantastically drunk by the time he decides he’s too tired to keep laughing and dancing with Bebe and Wendy. They pout when he tells them he needs air, but let him go with a tight hug before they go back to dancing. He estimates it being close to three in the morning by now, but he doesn’t want to go home, doesn’t want to return to reality just yet. He stumbles through the house in search of the sliding glass door that leads to Eric’s backyard. He struggles to get the heavy door open, his arms not wanting to cooperate properly. When he finally gets the darn thing open, the frigid Colorado air hits him like a ton of bricks. It feels good on his hot skin, raising goose bumps all over his torso under his oversized sweater as he steps out into the night. He stands on the icy patio and closes his eyes, breathing deep.

“Butters?” A voice asks to his left. It takes him a bit to realize that someone is talking to him, and then a little longer to open his eyes and turn his head toward the person. Kenny is standing a few feet away from him, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips and a lighter in his hand. “You okay? You look like you’re gonna hurl,” he says, eyes shifting over Butters’ face before focusing on lighting the end of his cigarette.

“‘M fine,” Butters mumbles with a scowl, folding his arms over his chest petulantly.

“I’ve never seen you at a party before. Didn’t even know you drank,” Kenny muses, blowing smoke out of his mouth and looking over Butters again. The smoke smells oddly sweet and curls in the cool air captivatingly, distracting Butters until it disappears into the night. They’re silent for a moment before Kenny’s comment registers in Butters’ head.

“I-I can come to parties and drink if I want to, Kenny,” he pouts, feeling his cheeks warm.

“‘Course you can, Butters. Just doesn’t seem like your thing, is all,” Kenny answers seriously, eyes on Butters like he can see right through him. He probably can.

Kenny’s hood is down for once, his messy, wavy, dirty blonde hair bristling in the cold wind. Butters really wants to touch it.

When it’s clear that Butters isn’t going to open up about what he’s trying to escape from, Kenny drops his gaze from Butters’ thin frame and stares off into the night.

“Whoisshe?” Butters asks on a sigh, the words blurring together on his thick tongue as he tries to get the focus of the conversation to shift. He doesn’t want to talk about what he wishes he could forget. Kenny raises an eyebrow, taking another drag.

“Who?”

“T-that girl you were with in the basement. She’s awful pretty,” Butters clarifies, the words bitter in his mouth with something he doesn’t want to admit is jealousy.

“I don’t know - Bebe’s cousin, maybe? She’s not from around here. I know she’s got a great rack, though,” he smirks, waggling his eyebrows.

“O-Oh,” is all Butters can think to say, tightening his arms around himself as his cheeks darken. Another topic change would be good right about now, he decides. “H-how long have you smoked cigarettes? I c-can’t remember seeing you with ‘em before,” he slurs a little, squinting at Kenny’s amused smile.

“I don’t think you can even remember how much you’ve smoked, let alone how long I’ve been smoking,” he teases, leaning against the side of the house. Butters’ eyes go comically wide, his mouth dropping open in horror.

“But I d-don’t smoke,” he stammers, knocking his knuckles together. Kenny shoots him a dubious look. “Honest I don’t, Ken! I n-never have!” Butters protests.

“Well I hate to burst your pristine little bubble then, Buttercup, but you might have gotten high off of fumes,” he says matter-of-factly, giving him a knowing grin as Butters blushes at the nickname.

“Oh hamburgers. I d-didn’t wanna muck up my lungs an’ all,” Butters says sadly, looking at Kenny with shiny eyes.

“I’m just kidding, Butters,” Kenny says with a grin he tries to hide. “You can’t really get high off of fumes; that’s just a scary story people tell. I’m sure your lungs are fine.” He looks down at the slow-burning clove cigarette in his hand with a grimace that Butters almost misses. “A lot better than mine, anyway,” he mutters to himself. “But don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” he addresses Butters again with a reassuring smile. Butters watches Kenny inhale on his cigarette again and is suddenly reminded of how Tweek and Craig somehow shared that joint without Tweek actually smoking it.

“Um, Ken? I-I was wonderin’ if you’d mind explainin’ somethin’ to me?” He asks timidly, sliding his knuckles together nervously.

“I’ll try my best,” Kenny answers, ash falling off the end of his cigarette onto the ground beside his worn-out boots.

“W-well see, Craig was smoking m-marijuana all normal in the basement, but then he did somethin’ funny and inhaled real big, and then kissed Tweek before letting the smoke out. And I just n-never seen that before,” Butters trails off with his explanation, feeling self-conscious as his head becomes a little bit clearer. Kenny just gives him a sweet smile.

“They weren’t really kissing, Butters,” he chuckles a little. “Craig gave Tweek what’s called a shotgun, which is where two people can get high off of the same hit by sharing the smoke,” he explains, taking another drag.

“Oh, gee, they both seemed real into it,” Butters says, feeling a little wistful thinking about it.

“Well I guess they would be, huh? Being boyfriends and all that jazz,” Kenny grins, smoke coming out of his nose. They’re silent for a minute before Butters works up his courage.

“W-will you show me how you do it? With your cigarette? I know it won’t do nothin’, I just wanna know what it feels like.” Kenny stares for a moment, caught off guard by the request before his eyebrows pull down over his eyes.

“You sure? I don’t want you doing somethin’ you’re not comfortable with, Butters. Don’t wanna dirty up your lungs an’ all,” he says, searching Butters’ face.

“W-well if you don’t wanna I understand,” Butters says quietly, looking at the ground.

“It’s not that, Butters. I’d do shotguns with you all day if you wanted,” he says with a sly smile. “I just wanna make sure you know what you’re asking is all,” he adds as Butters moves in closer, grabbing onto his orange sleeve.

“I know,” he says determinedly.

“Whatever you want then, Buttercup,” Kenny concedes with a shrug. Butters leans back against the house, pulling Kenny against him. Kenny hit his growth spurt later than most kids in their grade, but his was definitely the biggest. He towers over Butters and everyone else in the senior class at six foot one, only being beaten by Craig who stands just shy of six foot three. Butters is a mere five foot six if he stretches a bit on his tiptoes, but he finds that he doesn’t mind the height difference when he’s with Kenny; it makes him feel safe.

Kenny inhales slowly from his cigarette, filling his lungs. His hand slides around Butters’ jaw, lightly urging him to look up as he presses their lips together, easing their mouths open. Once their lips are slotted together, Kenny exhales the poisonous smoke into Butters’ mouth. It’s disgusting - Butters can’t deny that it tastes like licking an overflowing ashtray - but he also feels like Kenny is breathing life into him somehow. The pressure of this boy’s lips against his make him suddenly feel wide awake, as if someone flipped a switch in his brain and sucked out all the fog that had gathered there.

Kenny’s lips are without a doubt the most heavenly things Butters has ever felt. They’re chapped and warm, and Butters can’t help the small noise of contentment that leaves his throat as he brings his hands up into Kenny’s hair, holding him in place once the smoke dissipates. Kenny seems surprised for a few seconds before he gets the message, slipping his tongue into Butters’ open mouth with a small groan. He drops his unfinished cigarette to the ground to free his hand and slides it down, grabbing at Butters’ ass through his tight jeans. Something akin to a whimper escapes Butters’ mouth, his small hands tugging hard at Kenny’s hair.

Butters doesn’t want to stop and process what is happening, afraid he’ll wake up from this incredible dream alone in his bed again. Kenny is currently fastened to his neck, making a trail of slow kisses down to his collarbones.

“Leave a mark,” Butters hears himself command breathily. Kenny pulls back, giving him a stunned smile. Butters feels his eyes widen, not sure where that came from.

“I-I mean-”

“Can I?” Kenny asks, interrupting him. Butters thinks of the other marks littering his skin and feels himself nod. This bruise will be welcome, one he chose. Kenny’s eyes flash in excitement before he plunges back down against Butters’ throat. Kenny latches onto the skin between Butters’ neck and shoulder, sucking with fervor as his hands slide into Butters’ back pockets. It kind of hurts, but it’s definitely the best sort of pain Butters has ever felt, drawing a breathy moan from his lips.

Then the sliding glass door opens.

Butters scrambles away from Kenny as Clyde pokes his head outside.

“Hey you guys seen Token? I can’t find him,” he asks. “Nah, sorry man,” Kenny says easily at the same time Butters shakes his head furiously. Clyde gives them an odd look before shrugging and going back inside. They’re quiet for a moment until Butters clears his throat.

“Well I, uh, think I-I better get home, Ken,” he says quickly, turning to leave before things could get any more awkward.

“Well can I at least, uh, walk you home?” Kenny asks, looking a little lost. Butters gives him a sad smile.

“You don’t hafta pretend you like me back just ‘cause we kissed, Ken. I’m okay on my own.”

He leaves through the back gate before Kenny can think of a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this one is from the song "Tongue Tied" by Grouplove, which is one catchy partying song lol. I also kept in mind "Am I Pretty?" by the Maine when writing Butters, because it totally fits my headcanon of him. Come find me on [tumblr](https://tootickedtotock.tumblr.com/) if you wanna :3  
> P.S. - Let's just pretend that there actually is paisley print wallpaper in Cartman's basement lol


End file.
